My First Exhibition

by Hector Between the ages of ten and twelve, I became pretty well hung. My cock measured almost seven inches in length, which is average, but it was unusually thick. When I wrapped a string around it, then measured the string, it showed my cock to be almost seven inches in circumference. That�s nearly two and a quarter inches thick (in diameter). I�m not bragging; there are guys that make me look like a needle-prick. But it was mine, I loved its thickness, and I wanted to show it off. I believe that was the seed of my exhibitionism. The pressure to exhibit was full on me just before my thirteenth birthday (1941). A friend of my mom�s, we�ll call her Mrs. W, came to visit. My mom wasn�t home, and I didn�t expect her for at least an hour and a half. Mrs. W chose to wait. She asked me to play the piano for her, so I played Chopin (her favorite) while she filled the ashtrays with Tarington extra-long cork tips. All the time I was playing, I stared at Mrs. W�s legs. She had them crossed, and I could see the bare backs of her thighs -- beautiful, meaty thighs. When she started to flex those thighs and move her foot around in a circle, I remembered seeing a girl get off in the schoolyard that way. I finished playing, jumped up from the piano, and did a couple of slow bumps and grinds, as though I was kidding around. I wasn�t. I was deadly serious. �You do that very well,� she said. �It comes natural,� I answered. �See?� I boldly straddled the armrest of the couch and began humping it. I loved the expression on her face while she watched me, the way she licked her lips, the way she squeezed her thighs together. Up until that time in my life, I had never been that excited. I was so excited, in fact, all my inhibitions melted away. I stood up. My cock pressed so hard in my pants, I though it was going to break. I looked her right in the eyes as I unzipped my fly and hauled it out. She couldn�t take her eyes off it as I started jerking off. I did everything I could to keep from coming too soon. Her face became suddenly flushed. Then, her stare focused on my cock, she started squirming in her chair and kicking her foot. I couldn�t take it any longer. I shot my load into my left hand, so I wouldn�t get it on the carpet. With my right hand full of cock and my left full of cum, I hurried to the kitchen, where I cleaned up. When I returned to the living room, I sat down on the same couch I�d been dry fucking. She lit a cigarette, blew out a puff of smoke, and looked straight into my eyes. �Can you keep a secret?� she asked. I nodded yes. �Can you keep this one?� I nodded an emphatic yes. She stood up, walked to the couch, and looked down at me. �If you can,� she said, �then maybe we can do this again sometime.� �Aren�t you going to wait for mom?� I asked. �No. You probably don�t understand yet, but I�m too wet. I have to go home and get cleaned up.� At the door, just before she left, she turned and kissed me on the cheek. �That was very good,� she said. �Keep it a secret, and we�ll do it again.� I�ve kept that secret until now, but we never did it again. She and her family moved, and we lost track. I�ll never forget that time, though, when I stood in the middle of the living room, jacking off in front of Mrs. W. It was the debut of my life-long dedication to exhibitionism. What was so great about it? Only another exhibitionist would know.